MQUAKE Heartbreak
by FragilePuzzle
Summary: AU. Mihael is the lead singer in one of the most successful pop bands within the past ten years. Nate is his biggest fan...but how far will this small boy go to get close to his idol? Collab between FragilePuzzle and CROWcatalyst. Mello/Near.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This chapter was brought to you by CROWcatalyst! Be sure to keep watch for the continuing chapters, which will be written in collaboration by FragilePuzzle & CROWcatalyst.

(Hey guys…in the parenthesis is me, FragilePuzzle—I'm writing this collab with CROWcatalyst! BTW—he wrote the song lyrics for this chaper…pretty amazing, huh? ^ ^ That means the song lyrics belong to /him/. Not me, not you, but HIIMMMM. Anyways, enjoy the story. X3)

* * *

"_Baby, you don't know what you do to me…_

_I'm slipping again,  
into the eyes that I adore  
How did you find my hollowed soul_

_Waiting in this city's downpour_

_It's not like me to fall this hard_

_My head is filled with your voice_

_Convulsions taking over me_

_Though I don't have much choice_

_You're killing me with your kiss_

_Robbing me of all emotion_

_That body is driving me wild_

_Screwing with my devotion_

_I'm waiting for your answer_

_Mute with this tight muzzle_

_Could you fit me into your_

_Blank fragile puzzle?"_

"Nate River - did you hear me?!"

CRASH. Nate fell down onto his table, breaking one of its legs and collapsing in a rumbled mess.

"Ah! Uh... Sorry, Mom!" he yelled back to the voice that was calling past the plywood door.

"Turn that music down or else I'm going to have your father come in!"

Nate's eyes widened, and he quickly stood up, rushing over to his stereo. He only had it on low-medium, but he knew not to ever talk back to either of his parents. Luckily, his headset was right next to the stereo, so he grabbed it and plugged it in. The music transferred into the headphones' speakers, allowing him the freedom to still keep his music on.

He looked to the broken table, frowning at the clutter.

"Looks like I will not have the usage of a tabletop, now."

He walked over to it, picking up the CDs that were on the floor due to the fall. He sighed heavily, being relieved when he saw that his M-QUAKE collection had not been cracked.

M-QUAKE… the band that was previously echoing across the room, blasting through the house… while Nate was dancing in just his T-shirt and socks. The pen he was using to sing along was still gripped in his hand but was placed aside when he started to organize his collection on his desk.

He looked up to a poster by his desk, his onyx eyes reflecting a handsome young blond.

Mihael Keehl - the leader of the band had stolen his heart ever since he had first heard his voice… His ears drank every beat and symphony that was played through the radio and stereo speakers. He stared into his intimidating eyes, ran his gaze down his built body that was clothed with a black wife beaters tank and tight, black leather pants, and to single letter that was placed underneath his feet in a gothic font.

'M'.

"Mihael…" he spoke softly, carefully trailing his fingers down the poster and resting against his chest. "You do not even know I exist."

The thought strained his heart, but he let it pass. He took his fingers away from the poster, and then brought them up to his hair. Taking a strand of white curls in between his index finger and thumb, he continued to gaze at the light-haired man.

After a few minutes, he heard another song come through the headphones.

"_I know you want me badly_

_I keep you in prayers so that maybe,_

_Baby, one day you and I will be_

_With you in ceremony_

_Two worlds apart, we have this love_

_Where they don't understand you and me_

_But I'm not gonna let them stop us,_

_Because this is our destiny_

_I don't care how long it takes,_

_How long my heart will break,_

_I'd wait until I see your face_

_With you near, you're my_

_Amazing grace"_

His heart could not melt anymore with that last line. His nickname had always been "Near"… That's what the teachers at his special school called him, and that's what his tutors called him. Hearing Mihael say it, even out of a less familiar context, was the most soothing sound to him.

Nate walked over to his dingy bed, laying down on it. It creaked with every movement, and then stopped when he finally found a comfortable position. He brought his hands to the side of his face, using them as a pillow. His attention was caught by a piece of paper hanging off his bookshelf.

*** CONTEST ***

**Come see M-QUAKE live - this Saturday at 6 PM!**

**To enter for a chance to see them perform, all you have to do is send in**

**an index card with your name, address, and telephone number,**

**and you're in! Winners will receive a call the Monday**

**previous to the concert, and then receive two free**

**tickets in the mail by Wednesday night!**

**Good luck!**

A smile crept across his face. He had already entered, precisely on the day the announcement was displayed in the nearby music store. He had even requested to take an announcement poster home for remembrance.

Since the light switch was near the end of his bed, he simply sat up, clicked it off with his finger, and settled himself back into the worn out sheets. He closed his eyes, letting his mind roam freely on the thoughts of seeing Mihael Keehl… live on stage, his body dancing to the hip-hop beats, looking at him… only him? He smiled more, shamelessly envisioning the blond reaching for him, dragging him up on stage, and raving against his body. His thoughts would only be on Nate… not any other fan in the audience… not even his music… just Nate…

"Near…" he heard his dream Mihael whisper in his ear before he drifted off.

(~*~)(~*~)(~*~)

Anxiety coursed through his veins the next day. Even the teacher's lecture could not hold his attention. His mind was filled with thoughts of getting home, rushing to the answering machine, checking the messages, and listening to one that was made out to him.

"_Nate River!"_ it would start out. _"You're one of our lucky winners that will be receiving two free tickets to see M-QUAKE at the Arena this Saturday! Please be sure to check your mailbox every day for your prize! Have a good day and see you on Saturday at 6 PM!"_

He couldn't help but smile softly at the thought, now mindlessly twirling his hair. He tightened his grip around his left knee that was brought up to his chest.

Mihael Keehl.

He didn't care to see anyone else… The rest of the band was pretty decent, but they would be nothing without the lead… Sometimes, Nate wondered where Mihael would've been if it wasn't for M-QUAKE. Would he be doing solo? Perhaps not even singing at all?

The thought of not having his blond beauty sing gave him cramps. How could he ever make it through the day without hearing the elegance of his voice; without his natural element weaving little spider webs into his ears, leaving its plastering memorial?

"Oh, Linda! How could you say that about Mihael?! He's soooooo amazing. He's a god!"

"I… I just prefer Apostol instead... I think Apostol is cuter…"

"Cute is a compliment for the dork… He doesn't deserve to be in M-QUAKE."

"Don't say that!"

"Yeah, well… I'll be getting the tickets anyways, so you won't be able to see that Mihael is so much better."

"How could you be so cruel, Jenny?!"

Near kept his head low, not bothering to speak up for the girl. No one knew of his devotion for the band… To them, he was the quiet kid with no friends, who had no interests and no talent other than being smart at everything. They'd accuse him of just knowing it through sheer boredom one day while being in front of a computer.

He listened while the two talked, secretly letting a sly smirk cross his face.

He was going to be the one attending the concert… whether it was him alone from the area or not… He would get the chance to see Mihael… He would be the one to catch his eye in the audience…

He would be near…

* * *

(FragilePuzzle again....be on the lookout for the next chapter from me! *runs off to write*)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **This is MAH chapter—yeah biotches, it's me, FragilePuzzle! I…I'm so excited to be writing this story! ^ ^ I hope you end up enjoying my chapter~ BY THE WAY: The last chapter was CROWcatalyst's. This is mine. The next will be his. Only the even chapters will be written by me, only the odds by him. Just wanted to make sure you knew. xD

* * *

"_I don't care how long it takes,_ _how long my heart will break,_ _I'd wait until I see your face_! _With you near, you're my_…_Amazing grace!"_

The blonde's singing (lip-syncing…) was flawless as he flashed a bright smile in the direction of the cameras, going into another series of choreographed dance moves, expecting—no, just _waiting_ for one of his idiotic backup dancers to miss a move and fuck everything up. He didn't have to wait long…the girl in the video, some dancer they had only hired because of her pretty face and her prettier body, was the one to trigger his celebrity bitchfit this time. She didn't just miss a move…she actually tripped and fell flat on her face. The music continued to echo throughout the studio, but Mihael froze, an unattractive smile twisting his normally-perfect face.

"What is _wrong_ with you people?" he asked desperately, throwing his hands up in the air. "This is the seventeenth time we've tried to do this goddamn scene! It's not even twelve seconds long, yet people just can't seem to get it right!!! You know, I actually have more important things to do than be here and repeat the same scene until my jaw is frozen in place with a smile as fake as your _kindheartedness_ towards me!"

"M, please, must we really go into this again?" his manager asked, an uptight-appearing man named Gevanni, his voice lowering to a whisper after a moment. "You have to remember, these are the people that are paying you, and it's only if you get paid that I get my paycheck!"

"Oh please," the blonde huffed, running his fingers through his silky blonde locks. "As if they'd ever fire me. You _can't _fire me. I'm _Mihael Keehl._"

"M, please just do this. We have to get back to the office so you can draw a name from a pile of rabid girls that submitted their names hundreds of times to try and get free tickets to your sold-out concert this weekend," the man said, lifting his arm and pulling back the material of his suitjacket, checking his watch and tapping its glass face.

"Why do I have to draw the name?" the blonde star asked, a frown working its way on to his face once again.

"Because it's expected of you—I don't _know_. It doesn't matter if we know why or not, but you have to do it anyways."

"Ugh…whatever. Let's just go and do whatever we have to do."

"Finish the video, M, _that's_ what you have to do."

The blonde man stormed back over to the recording area, forcing a smile as he extended his arm and helped up the idiot girl, who apparently, didn't have enough brains to know that she was actually supposed to _get up off of the floor _when she fell. Squealing under her breath as she grabbed on to his hand, she pulled herself up, not letting go of Mello's hand even when she was back on her feet. The blonde pop star practically had to yank his precious appendage from her grip, and he immediately went to Gevanni to get the man to sanitize it.

"M…" he hissed, exasperated as he rubbed the singer's hand with Purell. "Why do you always have to be such…high-maintenance?"

"Because I can be."

With that, the crew rolled their eyes and got back to work on the video.

(~*~)(~*~)(~*~)

When they had finally finished recording the video, Mello was watching the feedback of all they had gotten, rolling his eyes and crossing and uncrossing his legs impatiently. He didn't understand _why_ they had to make a video for every new single he released…but apparently the DVDs sold well, and all that mattered was his paycheck, now. The blonde could hardly remember when it was all about the music, and the money didn't matter—now it was all fake smiles and botoxed girlfriends and screaming fans. Whatever…he liked it that way now. Once you got a taste of fame, it seemed like a pretty shitty idea to go back to playing at bars.

"Why did we have to pick that stupid girl?" he asked, voice exasperated. "She's not even that pretty, and I'm almost positive that, by now, at least some people have gotten the idea that I'm only half-interested in girls."

"I'd think that was witty, but M, let's admit it—you practically fuck anything that moves," Gevanni said, knowing that his boss wouldn't fire him for his snarky comments—they had passed that phase a long time ago, and it's not like Mello could exactly deny it.

"Whatever…we have to go back and draw the name now, right?" the pop star asked, brushing his hair out of his face with the flick of his head. "Just so some little brat can get into my concert?"

"M, don't be so harsh. They're your fans…they're the only thing that keeps you and M-QUAKE alive, you know? At least the other band members appreciate them a bit…you should too. Just because you're the lead singer doesn't give you the right to be an asshole—"

"Oh, but it does," he said nonchalantly, beginning to examine his black-painted nails. "At least I pretend to like them in public. They don't have to know that I think they're losers with no lives."

Gevanni sighed again. It didn't seem as though the egoed pop star would ever get the clue…he had been like this ever since he found out exactly how popular he was—seven shiny trophies and awards rested on a shelf back at his penthouse, all won in one awards ceremony for one year.

"I guess we'll be going then," said the black-haired manager, standing up and grabbing his briefcase, signaling to Mello that it was time to go—they had to leave by sneaking out the back entrance. It appeared as though somebody, though they weren't going to start naming names, had leaked where the recording was going to take place. That meant the front doors would be absolutely packed to the brim with paparazzi desperate to get a photograph of the star.

"Let's go then," Mello said impatiently, tapping his foot and waiting for the man. "I'm hungry."

"Chocolate, I presume?" Gevanni asked, leading them over to the door, Mello following in perfect stride behind the man.

"Of course."

(~*~)(~*~)(~*~)

"_Mello's signature stride seems like he took a tip from Lady Gaga—come to think of it, they both have the platinum blonde hair, eye makeup, and the tendency to be a whore for the camera!"_

The TV then flashed two pictures, one of Mello flashing the peace sign, sticking his tongue in between his index and middle fingers, the other of Lady Gaga doing the same thing. However, even as the blonde pop star watched this, it didn't bother him in the least. All press was good press, in his mind…besides, if people thought of him as a skank, that could only end up being good for him in the end.

The blonde was sitting on the couch in his penthouse, his best friend, Matt, sitting right next to him. Having taken a habit to watching gossip shows lately, something new about him being shown every day, Mello enjoyed laughing at the stupidity of the people who made up the most idiotic rumors about him. Transvestite? Really?

"Mels, that was pretty harsh," Matt said, pulling out a cigarette from the box that was always in his pocket, flicking open the lighter he was so fond of playing with, lighting the cancer stick. "How can you not let all of these assholes get to you?"

"Because I'm famous and rich and they're not," chuckled the man, wrinkling his nose as the smell of cigarette smoke hit his nose. "And how many times do I have to tell you to put that shit out! Don't smoke in my house, it's bad for my hair."

"It's not like you don't have a couple million girls that would chop off their hair and give it to you if you asked," the redhead laughed, putting out his cigarette on one of the plates that rested on the end table in front of the two of them.

"My section's over…" the blonde sighed, channel surfing a few times before finding nothing interesting and tossing the remote on to the floor. "I still have to draw a name. Go get Gevanni for me, Matt. And while you're at it, go get me another bar of chocolate."

"You know, even slaves get some kind of reward…at least they get a place to live," grumbled the other man, standing up and going out of the room, looking for the black-haired man.

"You know you love it~!"

After a few minutes, Gevanni came into the room, holding out a slip of paper towards Mello. Snatching it out of his hand, the blonde read it, realizing it was an address—apparently, he had to go _there_ to draw the name. Jesus Christ, it could never be easy, could it? He always had to go somewhere, smile for the cameras…this meant he had to go get dressed. Great…and he was planning on having fun later. That would have to wait, now.

"You can drive yourself, can't you?" Gevanni asked, brushing imaginary dust off of his suit and looking at the pop star expectantly.

"I suppose I can _dress_ myself too, can't I?"

"I'd be plenty happy to help you with that, Mels," the redhead grinned, holding out an arm and leading them to the bedroom. "Now…what ever should you wear? It's not like you have a very wide range of choices to have to choose from."

The redhead opened the doors to the huge closet—closet by Mello's standards, anyway. Most would consider it to be a room. Striding in, Mello chose a bright red fedora, plopping it down on his head at an angle, turning back towards Matt and seductively beckoning the other man over, holding his arms over his head and allowing his friend to strip him. Happily beginning to run his hands over his gorgeous best friend's body, unzipping his complicated white outfit, both of them knew that they were just screwing around—neither loved the other like that, but they held a deeper bond…the sex was just an added bonus.

"Get me the black sweater and the black jacket," the blonde demanded, coyly biting his lip as he felt his friend's green eyes hidden under those orange goggles he always wore roaming his now-bare body. "And the plain black pants."

"Sure, Mels…" he smirked, gladly yanking the clothes off of the hangers, walking back over to the blonde and beginning to dress him. He crouched down, slipping Mello's feet into the pant legs one by one, sliding the soft material up over his legs a moment later. As soon as it reached his waist, dexterous fingers buttoned it, softly running his fingers against the blonde's groin as he zipped up the silver zipper. Softly kissing the button before standing up all of the way, he began to slide the plain, black, ribbed sweater over his friend's perfectly-tones torso, watching as it clung to his every curve. He managed to get it on without mussing Mello's hair or hat, and as soon as they made eye contact, the pop star parted his lips slightly and allowed Matt to lean in and capture them in a rapid kiss.

"You're driving," he muttered, pulling away from the kiss after the redhead managed to get his jacket on. "Let's go."

Smacking himself on the forehead, Matt wondered why he fell for that every time.

(~*~)(~*~)(~*~)

"Now, here's Mello to draw the name of the lucky girl—or boy—that will have a chance to attend his M-QUAKE concert this weekend!" the announcer said, flinging out his arm and allowing Mello a chance to make his normal dramatic entrance. And boy did the blonde deliver. He strutted on to the stage, his bright red fedora over his eyes, lifting it up and giving the cameras his famous sexy glare. However, after a moment of that, he changed his expression to a smile, walking over to the huge box on stage—the box that, apparently, held all of the names.

"Now M, just reach your arm in, and pick the name of the lucky winner!" he said, gesturing for Mello to lean over and follow his instructions. The blonde did, pulling out a slip, being handed a phone a moment later. He saw that the name was some stupid girl's name…Linda, something-or-rather. However, he had no choice but to dial the number on the slip, waiting a few minutes before getting the answering machine. She was probably a student, then.

"Linda!" he started out, using his 'enthusiastic' voice. "You're our lucky winner that will be receiving two free tickets to see M-QUAKE at the Arena this Saturday! Please be sure to check your mailbox every day for your prize! Have a good day and see you on Saturday at 6 PM!"

There was a large cheer as he hung up, and the cameras all showed the hollow image of a fake-smiling pop star before fading to commercial break.

* * *

**End Note: **If you love me, you'll review. ;D Yes, I am an emotionally blackmailing writer, but without reviews, how will I know what to improve on and what I'm doing right? Anyways, you want to see how Near meets Mello, even when he didn't get the concert tickets, don't you? Well...even I don't know! ^ ^ We'll have to wait and see together~

~FragilePuzzle


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: This chapter is brought to you by CROWcatalyst! Hey guys! CROW here… Sorry for the lack of updates on MQUAKE Heartbreak! Chapter Three and Four have been written, and Chapter Five is on its way! Thank you for your patience and time. Enjoy!

* * *

"Linda, that's so amazing!"

"Wow, I can't believe you're going to see MQUAKE live!"

"Two tickets, huh? Who are you going with?"

"Oh, oh, take me!"

"Eh heh heh… guys, please… I…"

Linda was flushed, her brown hair hiding a part of her pink cheeks as she spoke.

One girl leaned against her desk and came down close, grinning.

"You know I'm a big fan of them, so why not join me, and I can show you how to really jam?"

"I… I need time to think. I've never been so… wanted?" She laughed, completing red from her scalp to her jaw line. The whole class was surrounding her, except for a few miscellaneous boys who had no desire to go see the show. One of them was by the windowsill as always, looking out at a class having recess. His hair was knotted on the left side, looking like he had not combed it the night before.

His finger was slowly digging into the pits of his hair, finding loose strands, and silently twisting them harshly between his thumb and finger. His eyes were not wavering from their fixed position. His body was internally convulsing with every breath he took.

Praying was not something he was used to doing, but he did a lot of it for the past few months. Nothing, other than the chance to see and perhaps meet Mihael, appealed to him at the current moment. His eyes became sadder as a single stream of thought passed his mind.

MQUAKE… It was not often the band visited the States… No, this was my only chance to see them in my lifetime. If not now, by the time they visit again, I'll be in college, working hard and studying every night. I'll have no free time…

He found himself looking down at his desk, all sound around him mute.

No, this isn't like me.

The sky didn't look as dark when he titled his head back up, watching the clouds crawl across the horizon.

I'll get there… I'm going to see Mihael, no matter what it takes.

The bell rang with Nate being the first one up out of his seat. He quickly rushed out, oblivious to the younger brunette calling out his name.

* * *

I have two days to come up with a solution to my problem.

He looked over to the large crowd by the doors, seeing about thirty to forty kids surrounding Linda. She looked like she was trying to peaceful eat her lunch, alone as usual, but the other students wouldn't leave her alone until she gave them an answer.

I wonder who's going to be the lucky person, he thought, looking back down to his ham and cheese sandwich. Whoever it is, I am sure they both will enjoy themselves.

He took a big bite, closing his eyes while munching on his lunch.

The show isn't going to take place that far from my house. I could easily walk, by any means. Calculating the distance from the Arena to my place… It would take me two hours, but it's more efficient than trying to get a taxi and waste money. I doubt anyone would try and pick me up either. I've been in worse situations. I could handle myself.

He took a sip of his apple juice, looking back to Linda's place.

She wasn't there.

Blinking, he looked around to see if she was still in the cafeteria. He thought that she was scared away by the large crowd. Considering own his social skills, he wouldn't want any crowds either.

As his mind continued to work in rapid speeds, the group that had once suffocated the brunette was now splitting into their smaller ones. As one passed his table, he heard the same remarks they usually made.

"Faggot." --- "Pile of shit!" --- "Why the hell is he so fucking quiet?" --- "Fatal human error."

He opened his eyes, looking to the few passersby. They swayed in their walks, trying to taunt him with whatever superiority falsely held. Their eyes didn't catch his, giving him the opportunity to walk out with being bothered. He grabbed his lunch tray, throwing away whatever was left of lunch, and exited the cafeteria.

* * *

The rest of the day was slow, especially when Nate's pen ran out of ink during fourth period. Without ink, he wasn't able to write note any notes during class. He looked around, his eyes meeting soft ones. Linda's entranced orbs widened when they met, quickly turning her head. Hair flew across her blushing face, hiding the fact her lips were trembling.

Nate sighed and waited until the teacher gave them their usual five minute break to make a move. Standing up, he took a deep breath and walked over to her. She looked up as he drew closer, lips curling into a nervous smile.

"H-hi Near!"

"Good afternoon, Linda. Is it possible to borrow a writing utensil from you?"

"Sure…!" Her smile grew wider, her confidence seemingly boosted. She fumbled through her pencil box, finding a ballpoint pen to hand over to him. Nate took it, nodding lightly.

"Thank you."

He made an attempt to turn and walk away before she reached out, meekly snatching onto his shirt sleeve.

"N-near…?"

"Yes?"

His eyes observed hers, watching them waver as she bit her lip timidly.

"W-would you… like… to…"

The teacher started the lesson once again, interrupting the younger girl.

"C-can we talk after class?!" she said too quickly for most to comprehend. Nate understood the cluttered speech, not taking enough time to think it through. With a quick involuntary nod, he rushed back to his seat.

* * *

"What is it you wanted to ask me, Linda?"

He was leaning against the hallway lockers as she stood in front of him, her books clutched in her thin arms.

"Well, I wanted to ask… ask you if… you wanted to…"

Inwardly, Nate was sighing and slapping his forehead. This girl obviously had a thing for him, and it wasn't his intention to spend any quality time with her. She had tried to ask him on dates before, so this time seemed no different.

"Linda, I told you before. I am not interested in a relationship right now. I would like to focus on my studies. I don't have time to handle a girlfriend."

"B-but Near…! It's… not about that…!"

"Then, what is it?"

She stared, tears starting to coat her bruised stare.

"I want you… you to… to-to go see… um, MQUAKE LIVE WITH ME!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This chapter is brought to you by CROWcatalyst - enjoy! (Hey, it's FragilePuzzle here in the parenthesis--I know I said that every other chapter was going to be by me, but now it's not. xD Just be on the lookout to see who wrote the chapter at the top.)  
**

* * *

It took a moment before Nate realized there was a small audience watching them.

He looked around, seeing girls clumping around them in sync with each other, their eyes looking terribly offended and betrayed. Whispers… they started to whisper dissatisfied opinions…

"She's mental, that child…" --- "With Near? What the hell is she thinking? He doesn't even have a life!" --- "I bet he doesn't even know what MQUAKE is…!" --- "We're screwed if she's going to pick that freak."

"Linda," he started, taking a deep breath.

_I have to seize the moment. My only chance… to see Mihael… M… This moment… I don't want it shared._

"I'm sorry, Linda, but I have to refuse."

Her eyes widened. The girls surrounding their small conflict burst out in various reactions.

"I KNEW he'd refuse her!" --- "He doesn't like music at all, he only likes his studies." --- "Linda, hey, why don't you give up on the nerd?" --- "Take me instead, Linda!"

"W-why…?" Her eyes were completed glazed, a tear peeking out from the edge of her lower lid. Nate twitched, wanting nothing more than to get out of the situation. He didn't enjoy having to constantly reject the brunette, and right now, he was in a sticky situation… There was never an audience. It made him feel a little guilty.

"I told you, I have no interest in attending dates with you. Besides, I have a project to work on this weekend. I do not have time for boy bands."

She was left in solitude as he stepped away, pushing past the hazardous swarm, avoiding their stinging stares at all costs.

"I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath as he exited the building and walked towards his home.

"I'll see Mihael my _own_ way."

* * *

Thursday night was never as eventful as it was that evening with its five minute coffee breaks every half hour, the wastebasket gorging on the crumbled blueprints of a plan, and the constant music blasting through cheap headphones.

"_I'm your predator, you'll be my prey_

_Licking sweat beads in small delay_

_Hesitating to your dismay -_

_I'll suffocate our nervous display_

_Hiding tempting secrets between lips,_

_Fingers trailing down frail hips,_

_These little blemishes on your node_

_Sexy mysteries in tiny code_

_Could you taste any sweeter?"_

His lyrics never ceased to make the small boy's cheek flush in soft pastel color. With his second ink pen replacement in his hand, he scribbled down the directions to the Arena and the blueprint of the building.

"Thank goodness for the internet and its hacking tutorials," he whispered so as to not interrupt the music. After outlining everything for the fifteenth time, he held it out and observed what he'd be doing. He looked to the computer screen, dragging the pointer to a pink highlighted link, and double-clicking.

_Judging by the security guards schedules, they swift shifts two hours before the doors open. The recent logs tell me the guard on duty during sign in usually arrives in a late fashion. Therefore, I have merely five minutes to work at the steel locks and get in. Then, there will be a backroom, which carries the band's equipment._

His chair turned towards a smaller desk, his fingers finding their places on his school laptop, typing feverishly at the keyboard.

Guitar search. He knew exactly what brand and model number the guitarist owned, typing the information in Google's search bar. 3268 entries. Very few sites were helpful, but eventually, an official guitar site gave him what he needed.

Width, length, height… Every single detail about the said guitar. On display was the case the guitar came with, and judging by the guitarist's attitude, he would have kept it with his instrument. Nate scribbled down the measurements on a separate piece of paper, pinning it to his wall by his older PC.

Turning back to the blueprints, he continued his thought process.

_The equipment is brought backstage forty minutes before the opening act is brought on stage. The main performance will start exactly seventy minutes after the equipment is brought in. After it is brought in, I'll unlock the case from outside. _He took out a small pick, crafted from a razor blade and paper clip. He brought out a junkyard bought guitar case lock, unlocking it from behind the actual opening. After it worked, his smile tugged upwards victoriously.

_I know exactly where Mihael will be taking his performance break. Since no one comes in his dressing room during performance, I can slip by when his opening song is playing. I'm sure even the staff will be watching him. He is… an amazing artist._

"Nate River - is that light still on?"

His mother's yell sounded off alarms, sending his body in a quick spasm. Jerking his legs upright, he stood and ran over to the switch on the wall. Now, only the dim glow of the computer screens gave life to the dark room. He threw his thickest blanket over his computers, sneaking underneath and sitting back down.

_Parents…_ His eyes were narrowed, his teeth a bit gritted. _I wish mine were different. _

He heard a nervous scream coming from the kitchen followed by smashing glass.

_Dad's at it again…_

He finished up his planning, then saved his work. Tossing the blanket back on his head, he turned off the computers and crawled into bed.

_Tomorrow, I pack my things after school. Then… Saturday morning, before anyone's up, I'll be on my way… Mihael… I wonder if any one else has gone this far for you?_


End file.
